Page 48 of Unkindness of Crimson Ravens

I closed my eyes tight, separating myself from the reality of my surroundings.

“Youthink?” Mother’s voice cut through the air, as though it’d grown blades of its own. “Why are you here?” she bit out. “I want the intruders alive before me.”

The icy sweat from my forehead fell down on my eyelashes. They did not know we were in the study, but they would soon enough. We were trapped here. We were trapped!

“Now!” the Queen yelled at the knights, turning the handle of the door to the study.

Several pairs of boots rushed down the hallway when the door creaked open, shielding us in the corner.

My hand found Francis’ as the Queen entered the study, making her way across the room. Francis’ overly calm eyes met mine when his thumb stroked across my palm. My lungs froze.

The firelight illuminated the room seconds later; my heart fell to my heels. The sound of rustling paper reached my ears. I closed my eyes shut—

Silence.

As though the world froze in place, deathly silence fell upon the study.

My eyes flew open in an instant, meeting Francis’ imperturbable gaze.

One glance at our shadows behind the door was enough for my mother to realize. One glance for her to know the intruders were right in the heart of her palace.

The shaking in my hands increased, my body was mere seconds from collapsing—

Mother put out the candle—enveloping the room in a pitch black embrace—when her loud, deliberate steps slowly disappeared.

She’d left. We were alive. My body shook, filling my paralyzed lungs with air. She didn’t see us.

“We have to go,” Francis whispered, dragging me out of the study when a shimmer from my mother’s table stopped me in place.

“Wait,” I rushed toward the object.

“Princess, we have to go!” Francis hissed at me as I let the golden Royal stamp slide into my pocket. His grip around my wrist hardened, pulling me after him.

We flew out the room, back to Sandra’s bedchambers. Running straight for the passage, we spared no time making sure the pathway was clear.

My stomach creaked with pain when the passage illuminated in candlelight behind us. The sound of dozens of steps following after us covered my skin in a freezing sweat.

Francis held my hand tight, urging me to run faster. “Don’t look back,” he said, pushing me ahead of him.

The exit of the passage entered my view just before my legs were ready to give up. A few more steps, just a few more steps!

My hand flew to the handle when Francis shoved me out of the way. I staggered backward from the impact, hitting the stoned cold wall of the passage. He yanked the door wide open, fleeing out.

Francis abandoned me after all.